With the sudden interruption, Karin sprang out of her captor's arms as Witkowski pulled his second automatic from under his raincoat. When De Vries ducked, he fired two shots, one into the neo's forehead, the other into his throat.
"Mon Dieu!" screamed the woman on the staircase, racing up the steps.
Latham ran to Karin, holding her fiercely, his arms two clamps of enormous strength.
"I'm all right, my darling, I'm all right!" she said, seeing the tears that streamed down his face.
"My poor dear," she went on, "it's over, Drew."
"The bell it is!" yelled the colonel, holding the two live ncos under his gun. The Nazi he had wounded was getting up from the floor.
"Here," said Stanley, picking up his and Latham's weapons and handing one to De Vries.
"Cover this scum bucket who can walk, and I'll shove the other sleaze after us. You, cblopak, use your fancy tele- 7 phone and call Durbane at the embassy! Get us wheels back there!
"I can't do that, Stosh."
"Why the hell not?"
"He may be one of them."
It was midnight Washington time, and Wesley Sorenson studied the materials sent over by Knox Talbot from the CIA files. He had been studying them for hours, all fifty one dossiers, looking for that relevant piece of information that would separate one suspect from the others. His concentration had been interrupted by Claude Moreau's frantic phone call from Paris, describing Latham's outrageous behavior.
"He may be on to something, Claude," Wesley said soothingly.
"If he was, he should have told us, not acted alone. I will not tolerate this!"
"Give him time-"
"Absolutely no. He's out of Paris, out of France!"
"I'll see what I can do."
"He's already done it, mon ami."
Later, after an awkward conversation with an equally furious Witkowski, Moreau had called back at five o'clock in the morning Paris time. The storm-tossed horizon began to brighten. Drew had delivered a bona fide neo in the guise of a Protestant minister.
"I must admit, he's somewhat validating his existence," the Frenchman had said.
"Then you'll let him stay in Paris?"
"On a very tight leash, Wesley."
Returning to the selected possibles among the material sent over by the CIA, the Cons-Op chief proceeded to weed out the obvious negatives much as Knox had done. From the remaining twenty-four, he pared further based on the time-honored principles of motive and opportunity, plus an element Sorenson called "why cubed," or why to the third power; beyond the first and second motives, another was invariably hidden. Finally, as a result of an adult lifetime of searching for the elusive, there were three probables, to be expanded if none proved accurate. Each suspect had what he termed a "neutral" face, physiognomies that lacked the definition of sharp features, the sort political cartoonists emphasize.
Second, none held a position of influence or high profile, either of which would disqualify the risk-taking. However, each was part of, or had access to, teams of examiners, either as couriers or researchers. Third, each lived beyond his apparent means.
Peter Mason Payne. Recruitment development as per division's requirements. Married with two children; residence a $400,000 house in Vienna, Virginia, complete with a recently added pool, estimated cost, $60,000. Automobiles: Cadillac Brougham and a Range Rover.
Bruce N.M.I. Withers. Office procurement validation, one of many. Divorced, one daughter, limited visiting rights. Former wife living on Maryland's Eastern Shore, $600,000 house reportedly purchased by her parents. Subject's residence, condominium in Fairfax's high-rent district. Automobile: Jaguar SJ6.
Roland Vasquez-Ramirez. Third-level researcher and coordinator, of which there were four, with the upper two levels.
Married, no children. Residence, upscale garden apartment complex in Arlington. Wife, a bottom-rung attorney at the justice Department. Known frequenters of expensive restaurants, clothes custom-made. Automobiles: Porsche and Lexus.
Those were the essential facts, none provably relevant until one studied the inter-Agency relationships. Peter Mason Payne sought recruits as specific abilities were required. Perforce, he had to question the various divisions and legitimately ask for examples of subject matter to gain a clearer picture. Bruce Withers's job was to justify the enormous expenditures for office equipment, including complex electronics. Quite correctly, he had to observe, even operate, certain machines himself, in order to ask a superior to sign off on huge 'urchase orders. Roland Vasp quez-Ramirez coordinated the flow of information among three levels of researchers. Granted, there were extraordinary restrictions, sealed envelopes, et al, and a man violating them would not only lose his job but conceivably be prosecuted. Nevertheless, those restrictions, often innocently violated in the interest of expedience, would not stop an enemy